


Of Course I Remembered

by SidheLives



Series: Fen'Harem Fluffcember 2020 [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Fluffcember, Hot Chocolate, Memories, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:28:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27942263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SidheLives/pseuds/SidheLives
Summary: He chuckled, laying his head against hers. "You know, I've never had drinking chocolate."Hero gaped. "Never?""Well, it's not exactly the kind of thing included in the Chantry's rations for trainees." He joked, squeezing her gently."We'll have to correct that, once we return to somewhere civilized." Hero said, kissing his cheek.Written for Fen'Harem's Fluffcember 2020Prompt: Hot Chocolate
Relationships: Alistair/Cousland (Dragon Age), Alistair/Female Cousland (Dragon Age)
Series: Fen'Harem Fluffcember 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035954
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20
Collections: Fen'Harem's Fluffcember 2020





	Of Course I Remembered

They made camp at the base of the Frostback Mountains, and as they pulled up tents in the frigid air, snow began to fall. Most everyone took this as a signal to retire to the relative warmth of their protected bedrolls. Hero sat by the fire, feeding it sticks and twigs as flurries gathered around her and settled onto the thick canvas her compatriots were nestled in.

"Aren't you cold?" Alistair had chosen the first watch, returning from his perimeter of the camp to find her.

She shrugged, smiling at him reassuringly. "I'm fine." A shiver shook her shoulders, betraying her words.

With a soft chuckle, Alistair sat down beside her and put his arm around her shoulder. Hero leaned into his embrace, happy for both the warmth he offered and the simple pleasure of being near him. She was cold, but her fascination with the gently falling snow had overpowered her desire for warmth. 

Alistair gently rubbed her arm, the movement warming her slightly. "You're a miserable liar." He teased. "Why are you out here instead of warming up in the tent?"

"I wanted to watch the snow." Hero admitted, somewhat bashfully. "It reminds me of my family. Happy memories," she added the addendum hastily as she saw worry slip into Alistair's eyes.

"Anything you'd care to share?" He took her hand, his other arm still wrapped around her.

Alistair was delicate whenever they spoke about Hero's family; he knew first hand the pain of losing those closest to him. While he was candid and willing to answer all her questions about his time with the Wardens, he never pushed her about her own dreadful loss. It was sweet. Yet when she chose to speak of it, he didn't avoid the subject or dance about the truth. Alistair respected her as a woman, to be sure, but also as a capable warrior: a peer, which was a kind of respect Hero found unfamiliar but refreshing.

"We would always have hot drinking chocolate together when it snowed. From the time I was little and it was just Mother and Father, Fergus and I, to after Fergus married Oriana and Oran was old enough to join us. It was something that always brought us together as a family." Her eyes lost focus as images from years past, untainted by the betrayal of Rendon Howe, played over in her head: she and Fergus competing to see who could make the largest, most impressive chocolate mustache until they inevitably poured the hot liquid down their chests as their father doubled over in laughter and their mother roared about the mess, even as she was unable to keep her amusement off her face.

"That sounds, just, really nice," Alistair responded, voice soft. "What wonderful, _warm_ memories to have in this bleak weather."

Hero snuggled closer into his side. "They keep me almost as warm as you do."

He chuckled, laying his head against hers. "You know, I've never had drinking chocolate."

Hero gaped. "Never?"

"Well, it's not exactly the kind of thing included in the Chantry's rations for trainees." He joked, squeezing her gently.

"We'll have to correct that, once we return to somewhere civilized." Hero said, kissing his cheek.

"You missed," Alistair pouted, turning to look at her.

Hero laughed and kissed him properly, a kiss he enthusiastically returned, warming her down to her toes. "Better?"

"Much." Alistair relaxed against her and they lapsed into silence watching the snow fall.

"You don't talk much about your parents—" Alistair faltered as if the words had slipped out without his permission. "I mean, that's fine, obviously, I understand, and if you don't want to again that would be perfectly reasonable; I wouldn't blame you for being cross with me for even saying anything, a stupid thing to say really," he rambled. To Hero, he seemed very much like a man who had lost his footing and was trying desperately to stay upright despite the ground crumbling beneath him. He saw her amused smirk and flushed deep burgundy "Maker help me, what I mean is that if you _did_ want to talk about them I would be here— I would be honored to listen."

Hero suppressed a snort. "Are you finished? Sure you don't want to keep digging a little further? I believe you may almost have reached Orzammar."

"Ha ha. Very funny." He rubbed his nose against her frigid one.

"Sorry, you're just so very cute when you flounder." She returned the brush of noses, a touch which had become comfortable and yet made her heart flutter every time. 

Her face became more somber and she studied her hands, considering his offer. "Talking about them… can be difficult." She thought aloud. "I miss them." Alistair began rubbing her back in small, comforting circles. Hero took a deep breath, stilling the rumblings of emotion threatening to climb up her spine.

"I'm sorry I said anything." Alistair's voice was apologetic and Hero shook her head.

"Please don't be." She squeezed his hand. "It's hard, but it's also nice, talking about the good memories. It's something Howe can't take from me. It keeps them alive, through me."

Hero smiled. Gone but not forgotten. She would never let them be forgotten.

"Have I ever told you about the first time I met Arlessa Guerrin?

"You've met Isolde?" Alistair asked incredulously.

Hero looked up at his aghast face and laughed. "Yes, of course. My father was Teyrn after all, and Eamon visited regularly."

Hero regaled Alistair with the tale of how, as a young child, she had scandalized the adults by threatening Eamon's then-new bride with a wooden sword when she had found out the woman was Orlesian, before being dragged from the study by her mother as Eamon and her father had doubled over in laughter.

She told him many stories as they walked the camp's perimeter through his watch and hers, and he told her his own, their hands clasped tightly to each other's against the bitter cold. At last, after rousing Sten for his shift on watch, they retired to their tent, made love, and drifted to sleep wrapped in each other's arms.

* * *

"Knock knock," Hero called out, using her foot to nudge open the door to Alistair's suite and peeking in. The room was comfortable despite its spaciousness, warmed by an impressive fire that had likely been burning all day. Thick wool curtains, fur rugs, and mountains of pillows on both the bed and seating area made the room inviting in a way that reminded Hero of the way her family's castle had been: overly cozy to balance the hard stone and bitter winters.

Alistair hopped up from the settee when he heard her voice. "Thank goodness it's you. Eamon and Teagan have barely left me time to breathe all day. It's still weeks to the Landsmeet and they're already planning the coronation and wedding. I'd rather deal with darkspawn, no question. Oh—" he stopped short as he noticed the tray in her hands. "What's this?"

"I thought you could use a treat," she said, lifting the tray slightly. "Now that we've returned to somewhere civilized."

She watched Alistair's face screw up in confusion as he reexamined the items on the tray: a pair of heavy mugs filled with dark, aromatic fluid and a small platter of sweet biscuits. Then the bewilderment broke and his eyes softened, mouth falling slack.

"Drinking chocolate. You remembered." He sounded awestruck.

The adoring look on his face made Hero flush. "Of course I remembered."

"Let me take that from you." Alistair lifted the tray from her hands, fingertips brushing hers as he did, and carried it to the settee. Hero followed him after closing and latching the door, settling onto the plush seat beside him.

"Try it." She urged him, pressing one of the mugs into his hands. "I've never made it myself before. The ladies in the kitchen wanted to do it for me, but I insisted on doing it myself so it's probably rubbish."

"As if anything you made could be rubbish," Alistair chuckled before taking a sip. His eyes widened and he pulled the cup back from his mouth to stare down at the drink.

Hero's chest tightened with anxiety. "Oh, it's horrible." She whined, collapsing against the settee's back and pressing a pillow to her face. "I should have known I would muck up something so domestic. I'll go back and beg the ladies in the kitchen for forgiveness, maybe they'll pity me with properly prepared drinking choc—"

Alistair put his hand on her thigh and squeezed gently. The touch, and his laughter, stalled her tongue mid-word and she dropped the pillow to look at him inquiringly.

"It's fantastic. The best thing I've ever tasted."

Hero scoffed. "I appreciate you sparing my feelings, but I've already agreed to marry you, there's no need to go that far."

"Have you tried it?" He asked, raising one eyebrow.

She shook her head. Hero had been so excited to get back to him with the drinks she had neglected to taste the concoction herself.

Alistair lifted the second mug and placed it into her hands. "I'm obviously no expert on the beverage but I am supremely impressed with your culinary skills."

Hero took a hesitant sip and her taste buds were flooded with the rich warm taste of chocolate, not too sweet, chased by a rush of memories the flavor was attached to. She took a deep breath and sighed. "I guess I did do alright, didn't I?"

Alistair laughed, throwing his arm around her shoulder, and she curled into his side. "Very alright." He took another drink from his mug. "Thank you for sharing this with me."

"Well I wasn't going to drink it all myself," Hero teased, poking him gently in the ribs.

"That's not what I mean and you know it." He poked her back and she giggled. "This is something that's important to you, a connection to your family. I can't tell you what that means to me that you feel I'm worthy of being a part of this."

Hero shook her head softly, a wry smile touching her lips. "Alistair, don't be ridiculous. You _are_ a part of it. You _are_ my family."

"Oh, I, that is, you, I mean—" Alistair stammered, face flushed.

Hero leaned over and placed a tender kiss against his lips, silencing his tongue with the brush of hers.

He set aside his mug to brush her dark hair from her face, letting his fingers rest just behind her ear. "It may be wrong to be thankful to the Blight for anything, but I am. It brought me to you. It brought me home."

There were no words which could capture the way her heart skipped a beat, or the way the adoration in his eyes made her skin tingle, or the fierce need to hold him close. She kissed him again, empty hand curling around the back of his neck and eyes closed, the ardent press of her mouth communicating what words could not. The mug was plucked from her fingers, replaced by Alistair's hip as he pressed his body close, arms encircling her and slowly lowering her back onto the settee.

Clothing, suddenly an obstacle to their desire, was shed by hasty hands, and Alistair pressed himself inside of her as she clung to his sweat kissed shoulders. She gasped his name as his lips explored the sensitive flesh of her neck and his thrusts fell into time with the ever-increasing tempo of her pounding heart.

"I love you." She managed to say between gasps of pleasure, the words drawn out by moans.

"More than life itself." Alistair's voice was steady despite his exertions, eyes intense as he gazed down into hers. "My Queen." His mouth pressed to hers, swallowing her impassioned moans as climax rolled her eyes back and arched her back. 

There were no more words shared between them as they lost themselves, each of them submerging in the bliss of the other, leaving two mugs of chocolate to cool on the table.


End file.
